


Unplanned and Unexpected

by stuito55 (annabeth)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Adultery, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Cheating, Condom Breaking, Discussion of Abortion, Explicit Language, F/M, I'm really sorry, I'm so Evil, Infidelity Kink, Medical Inaccuracies, Miscarriage, Nausea, No Ending, One Night Stands, Tragedy, Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Vomiting, gendered slurs, i'm so very very ashamed, probably forgetting some characters, risky sex, unborn baby dying, weird medical conditions, will never be finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/stuito55
Summary: Nik finds herself pregnant, but she doesn't know who the father is. And then tragedy strikes.





	Unplanned and Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesaddestboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/gifts).



> I actually did research this, and it's as accurate as I could make it according to what I read, but of course I'm not a doctor so any of the medical information could be wrong.
> 
> I think this is the last of my unfinished Nik/Stuie hockey fics.
> 
> Dialogue in italics is in Swedish.

Nik swings wide on the ice, her skates scoring curving lines as she skates around the net, the puck dancing on her blade as she goes in to shoot.

And then she stops with a spray of ice chips, drops her stick, her gloves, and pretty much everything and skates off, running for the locker room. Getting her skates off before she loses her oatmeal on the locker room floor is difficult, but she does manage.

Because of that, though, she barely gets there in time, but thankfully she manages to grab her short hair in one hand and brace herself over the toilet with the other as she pukes her guts out.

When she's finished, she sits back on her haunches, breathing hard and more exhausted than if she just skated a two minute shift. Her belly aches. Her whole body aches, come to that.

This is the second time this week that she's had to dash off out of practise and into the bathroom. She touches her forehead; it's clammy with perspiration, and not the clean, fresh sweat of exertion, either.

"Goddammit," she says. "I must be sick. Maybe it's that flu that went through the NHL a couple weeks ago."

She forces herself to get up, on trembling legs, and head over to the sinks, where she rinses her mouth out.

This thing, though, it's been lingering. She came down with the flu like pretty much everyone on the team did, and the aches, exhaustion, and swollen feet besieged her for awhile. Then she started to feel a little better, the illness passing…

Only days later she must have caught it again, and now it's lingering, like the last of winter before spring finally breaks through.

Nik is going to have to tell Babs she needs to go home and rest. She _is_ exhausted, her whole body drained, and she still feels sick to her stomach. The nauseousness never quite seems to go away, and it is interfering with her ability to eat like she should.

Breakfast is almost impossible these days. Everything makes her want to throw up, even her favourite, oatmeal.

The other meals aren't so bad, but she's already lost weight she can't afford to lose—the season melts pounds away anyway, especially if you can't eat enough to sustain yourself, and Nik has been having so much trouble with that lately.

She can't even skate a forty second shift anymore without sucking air afterwards. And Nik is pretty sure that Babs just thinks she's out of shape, that she's not working out like she ought to, but… but it's true, in a way, because when she works out now, she gets dizzy and unsteady and has to stop.

"I need more rest," Nik tells herself, and hauls herself out of the bathroom with effort.

Babs is skating with his whistle, and as soon as he sees her, he strides over.

"What's up?" he asks her. "You left practise without telling anyone."

"I think it's that flu," Nik says regretfully. "Do you think I could just go home and try to sleep it off? I'm sure I'll be fine soon."

"Yeah, yeah," Babs waves a hand. "Don't give it to anyone else, all right? We just barely got bodies back healthy."

"I'll try," she says, giving him a weak smile. But as she walks back down the tunnel, someone comes running up behind her, and a hand lands heavily on her shoulder.

"Hey, Nik," Stuie says, gasping for air. He must have just completed an intensive drill and then to dash after her… "What's the matter? I saw you take off. Are you feeling all right?"

"I wouldn't get too close to me," Nik says, and then doubles over as a horrible cramp passes through her abdomen. She feels like throwing up again. "I've got the flu," she pants, as Stuie takes hold of her arm and helps her sit down on the floor.

"Jesus," Stuie says. "You're awfully pale. Well, except for how green you look. Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No," Nik says, and groans as another cramp hits her. She can feel her body readying itself for her period now too, great. Just fucking great. "I'm gonna go home, all right? I don't want you to get sick either."

"Are you sure you're all right to drive?" Stuie asks, all concern.

"Yes, yeah," Nik assures him, getting to her feet with some difficulty. Stuie helps her up. He gives her a worried little smile, and Nik tries to smile back.

"I'll see you later then," she says, and even though she and Stuie were close a little bit ago, she knows how badly he misses his wife. It's been a little while since they've really gone and done anything together, and she thinks it might be because he's getting ready to just ease things off with her, put a period on their relationship and call it done.

Stuie must watch her leave, but she doesn't look back.

When she gets home, she takes off all her clothes and, even though she wants a bath, she's so tired. She takes a washcloth and soaks it in warm water, then wipes down her body; under her arms, along her breasts—which are tender and swollen from her upcoming period—and between her legs.

There's a couple of spots of blood on the washcloth, which is surprising. The last couple of months, her period—generally irregular—has been very light, almost nonexistent, even though she's had all the PMS symptoms and everything leading up to it.

In fact, some of the nausea of earlier has passed, but now she has a headache. She finishes up washing herself, tosses the washcloth in the tub, and pulls on a long t-shirt. It used to be Stuie's, which means it goes down past mid-thigh and is super comfortable.

Nik heads into her bedroom and collapses down on the bed. She must lie there for all of ten minutes, feeling her head pound, before she has to get up to pee.

"This is crazy," she says, as she drags herself out of bed. "I hate being sick. I can't wait for this stupid thing to just _pass_."

Nik does manage to fall asleep, after awhile, but she's woken not by her phone—which is actually ringing when she opens her eyes—but by the need to pee again.

She snags her phone and looks at it; it's Stuie, and she has a missed call from E. She's been avoiding E. They had an ill-advised _meeting_ a few months ago, and ever since then, things have been awkward. He keeps calling her, and she keeps refusing to call back; they see each other on the ice, but Nik has been trying to pretend that fucked up, stupid thing she did didn't happen.

It's only early afternoon, and in spite of the nap, Nik feels like she could take another one.

She uses the bathroom, washes her hands, and then picks up her phone and hits the callback button to ring Stuie.

He answers quickly—maybe too quickly. "Nik! How are you?"

"I'll be okay, I'm sure. I probably just need a couple days off."

Stuie hums to himself on the other end. "Do you want me to take you to the doctor?" he asks, finally.

"Wow, I'm not thirteen," Nik says dryly. "I think I could handle that by myself. But no. I'm fine. I just got my period, and between that and the flu it's just knocked me for a loop."

"I can come over," Stuie offers, but Nik really doesn't feel like seeing anyone. God, she's been so cranky lately. It's not like her to be this frustrated all the time.

"No," she says, trying to lessen the irritation in her voice. "I don't wanna be around people right now."

"Not even me?" Stuie sounds like he's pouting, and Nik remembers how distant he's been, how much space there has been between them lately. It used to feel like they were snugged up right against each other emotionally, like the fact that they loved each other made it impossible to feel alone. Then his wife intervened, perhaps without meaning to in his mind, and he started to withdraw. Maybe it was guilt.

But that was weeks ago. Probably the last time they had sex was over two months ago, and Stuie hasn't shown any sign of interest in her in awhile. At least not until this concern, which is ridiculous.

"Definitely not you," Nik snaps, without meaning to. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling really bitchy right now. You know, woman stuff. It happens."

"I guess if you're sure…" Stuie says, sounding doubtful. Nik shrugs, even though he can't see it.

"I'll talk to you later, Stuie," she says. "I'm just going to get some more sleep."

He says goodbye and she hangs up, then heads back into the bathroom, remembering she forgot to put a tampon in when she got her period.

But even as she's doing that, she's thinking back. The last two—no, three—months, it's been so light she's been able to go without protection sometimes for two or three days, and then it's just a little spotting.

"I wonder what's up with that," she says out loud, thinking she'll call her gyno about it. Maybe tomorrow, if this seems to be following that trend.

It's literally four o'clock in the afternoon, but Nik passes out on her bed again, and even though she gets up twice to pee, she sleeps straight through from then to six the next morning.

Waking up is a chore. She feels heavy, bloated, and dizzy. This fucking flu. Nik tromps into her bathroom, and as she's brushing her teeth, the mint flavour and scent send her senses reeling, and she winds up throwing up so bad she has to brush her teeth all over again.

And breakfast is awful. Her oatmeal turns her stomach now. Actually, she can't find anything in her kitchen that appeals to her and doesn't make her stomach churn in disagreement.

Nik gives up on the idea of food and goes back to bed.

Lying there, Stuie's t-shirt soft against her skin, she realises how sensitive her breasts are—every time she moves, the material brushes against them and they hurt.

Closing her eyes, Nik tries to breathe deeply, to relax.

—

Another month passes, and Nik can't kick it. She's tired _all the time_ , and while the nausea seems to have gone away, she's beginning to think maybe it's mono or something. But it's worse than that. It's the _or something_ that worries her more than anything.

Because this past week, when her period was due, it didn't show up. At all. No unpredictable spotting, no light bleeding, nothing—yet she got all the symptoms of PMS, the headaches, the upset stomach, the exhaustion. The tender breasts that have been kind of sore for months now, even when she didn't have her period.

But it's when the nausea makes an unpleasant and unexpected return that, while hurling in the women's locker room, Val comes in and hands her a brown paper package.

"What's this?" Nik asks weakly, and Val shakes her head.

"C'mon, Nikki, don't be thick. Don't you know something is wrong?"

Nik shoves her sweaty hair out of her face and opens the bag—and pulls out a pregnancy test.

"Are you kidding me? Like, no, seriously, is this a joke?" Nik wants _so badly_ for Val to be pulling her chain. But Val raises a perfectly arched brow.

"You have been sick awhile," Val says, shrugging her shoulders.

"It's nothing," Nik says, but Val doesn't move away, she just keeps hovering in Nik's space, in the open door of the toilet stall, until Nik pulls herself back to her weak legs and opens the box. "Fine," she says, "close the door. But it's not… I'm not pregnant. Holy crap." But a tiny little part of her is quite, quite terrified that the test is going to be positive.

Nik probably would have sat on the toilet, afraid to look at the little stick forever, if not for the fact that Val pounds on the door several minutes later.

"Open up, Nikki," she demands, and when Nik leans forward and pokes the door open, Val stares at her with a hand on her hip. "You have to look at it, you know," Val says, and Nik hides her face.

Finally, Val takes the test from Nik's limp fingers and turns it over. After what feels like eons, Val says, a little flatly,

"Congratulations, Nik. You're pregnant."

Nik moans and covers her face with her hands. "I can't be. I can't. The playoffs, Val. This is horrible."

Immediately her mind takes her back, four months ago at least. She never meant to cheat. It had been one stupid weekend, when she and Stuie had argued just before one of his regular trips home, and they'd yelled and said rotten things to one another and basically called it quits. Once Stuie was gone, and Nik was regretting everything—like telling him he was a jerk for wanting to be around his wife—she had gotten so drunk her eyes had crossed, and E had brought her home.

And then she'd done that unforgivably _stupid_ thing and fucked him. Afterwards, lying awkwardly in bed side by side, she had whispered,

"We have to forget this happened," and E had nodded; she'd heard him even in the darkness, his hair scraping the pillow.

He snuck out after that, and she tried to sleep and not think about what she'd done.

Or that E had so easily acquiesced when she suggested they do it without the condom. Jesus, what the _fuck_ had she been thinking?

She hadn't been. She knows that now. The memories are vague, liquor-soaked, and Nik can't recall her reasoning for going without the condom, but she's in a stupid situation now and she has _no idea_ what to do about it.

"Who is the father?" Val asks, and the faint judgement that had been there is gone now. Thank goodness for her friend. Nik moans again.

"Oh, Val, I have been so stupid. I don't _know_ who the father is."

"You don't know?" Val's concerned look makes Nik's stomach whirl around like she's on some carnival ride. "It's not Stuie's?"

"It could be," Nik says anxiously. "I had sex with him around the same time but—" and then she holds her hand over her mouth. She can't tell Val the rest of it. How can she let one of her best friends know that she slept with E, when Val has been secretly pining after E forever?

"But?" Val prompts, but Nik waves her other hand.

"I think I'm gonna be sick again," she says, not totally a lie, and Val gives her a worried little smile and lets the stall door swing shut.

Nik hides in the bathroom for as long as she can. But sooner or later she's going to have to come out. She can't bear the thought of facing Stuie. No matter what she does next, the consequences are likely to be awful: tell E, and risk her friendship with Val, or tell Stuie, and worry about what he's going to do about his family—his wife and his other, legitimate kids.

Stuie has already decided to try and fix things. Nik can't put this on him.

And then she feels tears burst out of her as she huddles in the toilet stall, because Jesus, she's been pregnant for awhile, if she thinks about it. And she's been practising and playing this whole time.

What if she damaged the baby? She's not even sure she will be able to keep it, but she could have hurt it.

More and more terrible realisations keep washing over her. Like the fact that she's probably too far along to get an abortion, and—even if she could bring herself to do that—it means she's going to have a _baby_. She's going to have to tell Babs and Kenny and go onto injured reserve and miss the playoffs.

And after the baby is born, who will look after it? It's not like Nik has a steady relationship or anything. Imagine the time she'll have to miss for maternity leave. What if she can't play hockey anymore afterwards? Not that she thinks she won't be able to physically… but what if she loves her baby so much she has to give up her first love?

Nik creeps out of the bathroom and goes home without telling anyone she's leaving.

But tomorrow. Tomorrow she is going to have to tell the front office and Babs what's going on. She's been irresponsible long enough; she can't keep playing in her condition.

But oh God, this is going to kill the team. They rely on her. And she is really letting everyone down. She's supposed to be a leader—what kind of leader sets this type of example?

Her phone rings as she's setting down her bags and taking her coat off in the breezeway of her house. When she checks the display, it's E.

Nik's finger hovers over the screen, ready to reject the call, but something makes her take it. Maybe the fact that, if she's going to have a baby, she's going to have to learn to do things she doesn't want to do. To face up to her problems.

"Hi, E," she says, and cringes. He's bound to be able to tell from her voice that she's weighed down by something particularly heavy.

"Nik!" He sounds relieved, though. That's probably not going to last long, at least, not if she tells him she's pregnant—and everyone's going to find out, sooner or later, when she can't play anymore. Starting tomorrow. Dammit. "Why don't you call me back anymore?"

"I think you know why," Nik says tiredly. She wants to sleep for a week.

"I thought I had done something." He pauses, as if waiting for her to disagree with him, but Nik can't find the words. It's not really his fault; still, though, he was a part of something she's ashamed of, and that makes it difficult. He sighs. "Well, anyway. If I did something, I'm really sorry."

Nik sighs too. "Not really," she says, taking some pity on him. "You remember that weekend I got drunk and you brought me home?"

"Yeah…" E says cautiously. "What about it?"

"I felt stupid," she says honestly. It's not all of the truth, but what she's saying _is_ true. That has to count for something, right? "In any case, I just didn't want to face that."

"Did you talk to Stuie?" E sounds concerned now. "I mean, about—"

"Please don't say it," Nik says, holding her hand up even though he can't see her. "And no, of course I didn't tell Stuie."

"I thought maybe that was why you guys broke up," E says. "I had half-convinced myself it was why you were avoiding me."

_No,_ Nik thinks, _I was avoiding you because I'm pregnant._ But that's not entirely true. She had started avoiding him long before today, when she found out for certain that even intelligent, well-educated women can not realise they're pregnant for _months on end_.

"No," she says instead, "it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what happened?" E asks, all curiosity now that he knows it's not because of him. Nik isn't at all sure what to say. She doesn't really know, entirely, herself what happened.

Thankfully, he's more focused on Stuie than her mysterious illness, which has been the talk around the locker room for awhile. Nik is kind of horrified to think how many more people might have made the same connection that Val made.

In a split second, Nik makes the decision not to tell E about her pregnancy. She can't—to tell him now will look awfully suspicious if she hasn't told anyone else yet. It might make him think he's the daddy… and Nik isn't ready for that confrontation yet.

"I don't even know," Nik says wearily. "Well, I guess that's not true. Stuie's married, Jonte. I couldn't… I think you can see why it was never going to work."

"But you seemed…" he lets the sentence hang, and Nik blows out a breath.

"There wasn't anything lasting between us," she tells E. "I always knew it would end."

"Is there anything I can do?" E asks. "All you have to do is let me know."

"Nope," Nik says. "You know that. I don't intend to be mean, but you've done enough, you know?"

He sighs. "I know. It was a stupid thing to have done."

She's glad he agrees with her, because she doesn't want to consider the idea that maybe E is holding a torch for her. That would be pretty terrible, even if it turns out he's the father.

God, please don't let him be the father.

"Well, as they say, what's done is done. We just have to move on."

"Call me if you need me," E says.

"You're a good friend, Jonte," Nik says, before they say goodbye and hang up. She hopes he takes the hint that, in spite of the night they spent together, they are only friends.

Nik thinks about calling Stuie, but her body wants rest, and her mind could use it too, so she puts down her phone on the counter and heads into her bedroom, where she throws on another old t-shirt and climbs onto her bed, on her stomach.

Now that Nik knows she's pregnant, that weight gain she couldn't explain makes so much more sense. She has always considered her belly a problem area, but it had gotten worse over the last few weeks.

Jesus, and it's only going to get even _worse_. Nik hates the thought of trying to get back into shape after the kid is born.

"Fuck me," Nik mumbles into her pillow. "I can't believe this is happening to me."

Maybe she will just tell everyone the father is someone the team doesn't know, a boyfriend she's been keeping stashed somewhere.

"I don't know what to do," Nik says aloud. "Maybe I should call my mom."

But Nik is afraid of what her mom will say. Would she be happy about the thought of a grandchild, or upset that Nik got pregnant accidentally? Would she want to know who the father is, and Nik wouldn't be able to tell her—because it might be a married man, and wouldn't that just kill her mom? Nik knows, deep down, that her mother feels she taught Nik better than that.

And Nik _did_ know better… but she went ahead and did it anyway.

She beats her head against the pillow a few times and then, still exhausted, shuts her brain off the best she can until she falls asleep.

—

Nik pulls on her coat, zipping it over her belly, where it's tight now—dammit—and gets into her car. In only a few minutes, she's going to be facing Babcock, and then probably Ken Holland, and then her season will be over. No last few weeks of hockey. No playoffs.

Nothing to look forward to but getting fat and then, labor. Yippee. And probably also a knock 'em down, drag 'em out argument with Stuie—and possibly Jonte.

Of course, the first person she runs into at the Joe is Lidas, who raises an eyebrow at her, probably because she _literally ran into him_. She can also see his eyes widen, probably at her new pushed-out belly, but he's much too much of a gentleman to say anything. Not like her other teammates would.

Besides, what is he going to say? _Have you been working out like you should? Because I think you're getting fat, like too fat to fit in your uniform._

Instead, he nods and gives her a smile while helping her stay on her feet and not fall backwards.

"Good morning, Kronner," he says, too, all wonderful politeness. It's never quite gotten to be less than a dream come true to play on the same team as her hockey idol, even if it's been a few years now.

"H-hi," she stammers a reply, even as she's glancing down to make sure she didn't drop anything, and trying to bring her equipment bag up to cover her stomach.

"How are you feeling?" Lidas asks her, presumably because he, like everyone else, has noticed she's still not up to speed health-wise.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she says, mentally tacking on, _just give it a few more months_.

And then she stops and stares at Lidas, while he gives her a curious look, like he can see the wheels turning in her head. Maybe…

Well, he _is_ the captain, maybe she should try it out on him, first.

"Nick," she says, and he waits, patiently, as she gathers herself. She's always loved that about Lidas, that he doesn't push, that he's patient, that he never seems to yell. Ever. "I've got… a problem."

"What is it? Maybe I can help." He smiles at her, and Nik's heart skips a beat with anxiety. What if she tells him, and he gets angry? Or worse, tows her to the offices and stands there while she tells everyone that, that's it, her season's done, and oh by the way, sorry for disappointing everyone?

She almost starts laughing hysterically, picturing herself playing right up until she has to leave a game to give birth, and then returning to the game. Wouldn't that be something? And that mental image right there is proof of why she has to tell people.

"Nik? You look pale. Are you seriously all right?" Lidas breaks into her thoughts and Nik shakes her head, trying to dislodge all the whirling thoughts in there.

"Yeah, you know what, I'm fine. Really. It's nothing." 

Lidas looks dubious, but he lets her pass him in the hallway and he doesn't push the issue, so Nik wipes her sweaty palms on her tracksuit pants and tries not to think about what the future might hold. Both in the next five minutes, and in the next five months.

Nik expects Val to press the issue, when she gets to the locker room to change, but Val's not there—out with an illness, someone tells her; she doesn't even register who, she's so lost in her own misery.

And if Val's not around, then there is no one to find out; even though Nik gasps for air and struggles to fit into her gear. How had she never noticed it was getting tight before now?

Every once in awhile, she catches Lidas glancing at her, as if he knows there is more to this than she's letting on, but she pretends not to notice. Maybe just one more morning skate, one more game.

She knows she shouldn't, that she's been playing with fire for quite a long time now. She's probably lucky she didn't miscarry all over the ice during a well-attended game. How humiliating that would have been. Not to mention terrifying, not only for her, but for the fans. Thank God that didn't happen.

But still. One more game. It'll be fine. Right?

_

Wrong. Nik is skating down along the boards in her zone, and she has her head up but it doesn't matter. She gets hit, crunched into the dasher, and falls awkwardly.

The sudden pain, followed by a gush of what must be blood between her legs, sends her head reeling, dizziness settling in.

The trainer, Piet Van Zant, who comes running out onto the ice to attend to her, must be thinking she has a concussion or something. But Nik knows. She curls up in a fetal position, hands covering her belly protectively, even though she already knows it's too late.

But maybe not, right? Maybe if they get her to a hospital in time, something can be done. But she can feel the blood trickling down, and soaking into her hockey pants, her socks. She can feel the horrendous cramping in her abdomen and she wonders: how could it happen so _fast_?

When Piet gets to her, he says,

"Did you hit your head? Can you move?" and Nik turns her face away, not wanting to see his concern, not wanting him to see her tears.

But then Lidas is in her field of vision on the other side.

"Kronner, what is it? What happened? That was a nasty hit, but—"

He stalls out when he finally catches a good look at her face. He must be able to see how pale she is—she feels lightheaded—and the tears running down her cheeks.

Which is about when Piet says, "You're bleeding. Kronner, did you get cut? Where is the pain coming from?"

"My stomach," she sobs, holding her arms up, outstretched towards Lidas. She wants Stuie, really, or even Jonte, but Lidas is the captain and he's the one looking after her. But she still can't say the words, _I'm pregnant_.

"Maybe it was a skate blade," Piet says, reaching for her jersey. But Nik can't manage to unclamp her hands from her belly. "Kronner, I need to get a look at it."

"I know," she says, but then she starts to feel woozy all over again.

Piet waves over the guys with the stretcher, even though Nik knows she doesn't have a head injury; still, she feels every single movement resonate in her body as they strap her down.

When they wheel her off, she can't look back, can't look to see if there is a pool of blood on the ice where she was lying. She can't feel it dripping out of her anymore, which she doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

At which point everything goes dark and hazy, and Nik can't give the thumbs up because she's pretty sure she passes out.

—

Nik drifts up towards consciousness in a mist of pain, mostly concentrated in her side.

She blinks blearily, and Stuie's face swims into focus. Nik closes her eyes right away, but it's too late to pretend she's still unconscious; Stuie picks up her hand and whispers,

"Nikki?" He sounds so, so worried, and Nik hates herself for putting that worry in his voice. She should have known better. She _had_ known better.

Why had she thought she could get away with it one more time?

"Stuie," she says, surprised by the hoarseness in her voice. But beyond his name, she doesn't really have anything else to say. What _is_ there to say? I'm sorry? Of course she's sorry. But telling him that… it's not going to help anyone.

"How are you feeling?" Stuie rubs his thumb across the back of her hand. "The doctors haven't told us anything yet."

"They… they haven't?" How long? Nik wonders. How long does she have before everyone finds out—five minutes? An hour?

And then her stomach sinks as the doctor enters the room.

"Ms. Kronwall?" she says, adjusting her stethoscope around her neck. "I'm Dr. Ashlee. If you'll excuse me, Mr—"

"Stuart," Stuie says. He gives her hand a squeeze and lets go. "I'll be just outside. I'll come back in after—"

"No!" Nik exclaims. "No, um, I'll be fine. You go home."

But Stuie gives her a concerned look, tilting his head down to peer sternly at her. "I'm not going to go home, not until I'm certain you're going to be all right. I think it's awfully strange that no one is telling us anything." This last seems to be directed at the doctor, who shrugs.

"We just wanted to be certain about things," the doctor says. "We think the baby is going to be all right, but it could be touch and go depending on how Ms. Kronwall's body adjusts to the shock in her system."

Stuie's wide, stunned eyes land on Nik, the weight of them almost causing more of an impact than the hit that landed her in the hospital.

"Baby? What baby?" he asks, and Nik can tell that the doctor doesn't know who he's asking. Nik's not quite sure herself.

"Uh, hmm," says Dr. Ashlee. "I take it you haven't told the father yet?"

"He's not the father," Nik says quickly, eyeing Stuie from the periphery of her vision. She knows, though, that he doesn't believe her, though it would be utter suicide to claim to be, since they're teammates. "And no, I hadn't told him yet. I only just found out."

"Wait," Stuie says, holding up a palm, "you're pregnant? Excuse me? When did this _happen_?"

"Uh… about four months ago, I think," Nik says, then ducks her head; she can't bear to look him in the eye. Four months ago, they had sex for the last time—and the condom broke. Four months ago, and Stuie had gotten angry over—she can't even remember what, now—something and that had been the beginning of the end. Him deciding to work things out with his wife.

Nik getting drunk and fucking Jonte, and then forgetting—at least until now—that the condom had broken. The liquor she'd had that night must have sent that memory spinning out of her brain, along with the nausea and vomiting from her hangover the next morning.

But to be honest with herself, Nik never really forgot. She just pushed it down until she couldn't think about it anymore—until she found out she was pregnant, and had to confront the idea that it could be Jonte's, and probably was, since they hadn't even _used_ a condom, or that it could be Stuie's… Nik turns her face to the wall.

Stuie says something in a low voice to the doctor, and Nik has a feeling he's working himself into an angry lather over the idea that maybe the baby isn't his. After all, he probably remembers the condom broke. But she did just say she hadn't told the father—and Stuie has always had the tendency to get jealous, even when he's never had any right to be. He's going to think she slept with someone else.

The trouble is, she did.

Nik closes her eyes. The doctor tells her a bunch of things, but Nik can't really hear. She's too lost in her own unhappiness. And the fury with herself for endangering her pregnancy.

"—And you'll have to stay in the hospital for observation, for a couple nights at least, then probably bed rest for awhile to make sure you don't lose the baby," Dr. Ashlee is saying when Nik finally tunes back in.

Also, great. Stuie's not likely to keep his mouth shut—he's going to tell everyone, not because he can't keep a secret, but because everyone is going to be desperate to know what's wrong with her, and Stuie's not likely to lie.

And why should he? Everyone needs to know—and Nik has done a shitty job of making herself do the honours. So he might as well.

"If you'd like to rest some more," Dr. Ashlee says, "the call-button is right next to the bed. Push it if you need anything. And don't worry about pushing it too often. We'd rather make sure in cases like these."

Nik realises, then, that she's hooked up to a bunch of machines; the doctor must notice this, because she says, gently,

"Fetal heart monitor, one for your heart, some other things. Just to make sure. Anything starts beeping too much, someone will be in to check on you in a matter of minutes. Sleep well, Ms. Kronwall."

She shuts the door behind her, leaving Nik alone with nothing to do but think.

And feel guilty.

_

"Why didn't you tell me?" Stuie asks, walking back into the room even though the doctor just told Nik to rest. "Or the team? How could you keep something like this a secret?"

"I've only known for sure since yesterday!" Nik exclaims, feeling like she's lashing out and she has no right to. But she can't help herself.

"How on _earth_ , Nik, do you not realise you're pregnant for _four months_?"

Nik crosses her arms and gives him her best mulish look. "It's actually more common than you might think," she says. "I thought I had a period, and it was just… light. And the flu. I thought I just couldn't shake the flu."

Stuie finally goes over and sits in the uncomfortable chair by the hospital bed, slumping down. He's very quiet when he says, "The condom. It broke. Is it mine?"

Nik doesn't want to put this on him; doesn't want to add to his responsibilities. He's already a father, and he loves his little boys and his stepdaughter very much, Nik knows that. And she knows if this baby were his he would love it just as much—but that's not fair to him. To dump an unwanted baby in his lap.

So she does something that is likely unforgivable: she lies.

"No, Stuie, it's not yours."

The problem is, she's not a hundred percent _sure_ she's lying. It's true it could be E's baby too, and Nik can't know anything for certain until after it's born. But still. She hates the both of them for a minute, herself for lying, and Stuie for the relief on his face just before he wipes the expression clean, like a Zamboni resurfacing the ice.

"Oh. Okay." He may not look relieved anymore, but now there's a faint distaste in his eyes, like he can't believe he could have loved someone who obviously slept with someone else four months ago, _when they were still together_. 

"You know we couldn't have a baby together," Nik reminds him, as if he needs reminding. His wife doesn't know about her. His wife doesn't know that, until Nik, Stuie had never even thought about another woman—and now he's in the midst of a full-blown affair. She can just picture the headlines if it got out that Nik Kronwall was having Brad Stuart's baby.

Though it's times like these when she doubts he ever loved her. It's not like he ever really said so, not in so many words. It was mostly just the enduring aspect of their affair, the way he kept coming back, that made Nik think he did. She's not super-pretty or anything. He didn't keep on coming back for more just because he thought he was getting lucky—pun not intended.

And Nik is ashamed of the fact that she's loved him since… well, it feels like forever. Not that she's ever really said so in as many words, either. They're so screwed up, it's not even funny. And now there might be a baby. Well, there _is_ a baby, and it might be his.

Jesus fuck.

"So…" Stuie says, as if easing into it, though Nik already knows what he's going to ask, "whose is it?"

Nik lets out a heavy sigh. She doesn't know how to answer him. She can't be truthful, because to say it might be Ericsson's might really upset Val. And she can't say that to Stuie anyway, because he might just try to kill E if he thinks he knocked her up.

So she lies again. She's well-aware of the fact that too many lies trip over each other after awhile, but maybe she can keep a couple straight, anyway.

"Just some random guy," she says tiredly. "You and I… we had that argument, do you remember? And I went out and had a little harmless fun. At least, it was _supposed_ to be harmless. And now look."

Stuie is quiet for awhile. "What can I do?" he asks, though he sounds reluctant about it. Like he's angry about her sleeping with someone—especially a stranger—but he's trying to keep a lid on it because she's injured, pregnant, and in the hospital.

He must know how stupid she feels right now. Maybe that's why he's not reaming her out—God knows she deserves it.

"You know you can't do anything," Nik says. She closes her eyes and tries to pretend he's not there.

That she doesn't still love him, and that him being this close right now, when she's feeling so lost and alone, is really getting to her. This is probably the most connected she's felt to him since they argued and he started pushing her away.

"Do you know how to contact the father?" Stuie asks, softly. There is a peculiar gravity to his tone, and Nik thinks maybe it's Stuie's way of letting her know he still loves her. Though she's not even sure he's aware of it, to be honest.

"No," Nik lies again. "It was only a one-night stand. It's not like we exchanged numbers."

"Besides, I thought you were on the Pill," Stuie continues, as if this is a perfectly reasonable leap of logic.

"It's not always effective," Nik explains. "I might've screwed up taking it around then." She stops talking to think, prompting Stuie to say,

"And?"

"And I think I changed which pills I was taking. Sometimes that can do it too." She rubs her eyes. "I'm stupid, basically."

"You're not stupid," Stuie says automatically.

"Well, I definitely wasn't thinking," she shoots back.

She doesn't know if the blow lands and affects Stuie or not, because she still has her hand covering her face. She can't bear to look at him, all that concern for her written on his face, and Nik is lying through her teeth. Though not about the effectiveness of her birth control.

"But you're sure it isn't mine," Stuie concludes. Nik nods her head.

"The timing isn't right," she says. Now the lying is getting to be more difficult. Any second now he's going to see the holes in her story that are large enough to drive a Zamboni through. "I just want to rest, Stuie. Go home."

Nik wonders if he will talk about this, her, with his wife. Will he tell her one of the female members of the team is now suffering from an unplanned pregnancy? Would he even risk bringing it up, when the person in question has, at some point, been his lover?

She doesn't even know why he _would_ , or what made her think of it, but now she's worried. Maybe he already told his wife about her. Maybe that's why he's been so distant, so unreachable.

"Well, ah," Stuie says awkwardly, "call me if you need anything, yeah?"

"I don't need anything from you, Stuie," Nik says. She may not know for certain who the daddy is—but her gut feeling, along with what makes the most sense, is telling her it's E's. And that means she wants the cleanest break from Stuie possible.

Even though she can never really have anything with E, because she's not going to step on Val's toes like that.

Even if she already technically did.

Fuck.

What a mess.

That pretty much settles it, though. She's not going to tell Ericsson it might be his, either. She'll just perpetuate the lie that she slept with a stranger—even if it makes her teammates think she's a slut.

Nik doesn't look, but she hears Stuie get up, the chair creaking. As he closes the door behind him, she allows herself to ruminate on the fact that she called herself a slut, which is of course far from feminist language.

But no worse than some NHLers may call her if they find out what she did. Not the pregnancy, so much. But the alleged affairs. It was bad enough when she was sleeping with a married man on her own team.

But this, this is worse. Nik has to bite her lip hard to keep tears from coming.

Raised voices outside her hospital room door, though, cause her eyes to spring open. She shifts on the bed, turning a little even though her belly hurts and she aches from the force of the hit she took, as she recognises Stuie and Jonte—arguing.

The door slams open and Jonte stalks in like an angry giraffe.

"You're pregnant?" he says in an over-loud voice. Nik winces. Stuie steps back into the room on his heels. "Is it mine?"

Nik thinks a cataclysmic earthquake might just do it right about now. She can see from the high flush on E's cheeks that he's not thinking, that he's angry and upset and scared, and blurting out secrets that he might otherwise have realised needed to be kept.

Stuie blanches at the last question, and Nik revises her opinion of herself down another few degrees.

"You _fucked Ericsson_?" he snaps, incredulous.

"It was a one-time thing!" Nik protests. Stuie turns a hot glare on Jonte.

"You fucked her? Are you crazy?"

Ordinarily Nik might have been encouraged by this spate of jealousy from Stuie. But not now. Not over this.

"Well, so did you, and you're married," Jonte retorts. "What does that make you?"

Stuie pins his hot glare on Nik now. "Was _he_ your one-night stand?"

"No," she says adamantly, but unluckily for her, it's at the same moment that E, just as definitive, says, "Yes."

Stuie spins on his heel and starts pacing around the hospital room in short, angry strides.

"We were broken up!" Nik cries, but this situation is already way out of control. She doesn't think she can block this shot, or keep it from hurting. Not for any of them. She turns her attention to E, pleading.

"I slept with someone else," she tries, but Jonte regards her steadily.

"Pull the other one," he says. "If this is my baby, I want to know about it."

"Please, E, let it go," she begs. But he stares at her stonily.

"We didn't use a condom, remember? Or did you forget?" He sounds so _angry_ , not at all like the guy who only a day or so ago was so pleased she was talking to him again.

Stuie whirls around. His eyes are huge in his face, almost haunted. His cheeks are pale and his lips are bright red, like he's been sucking them raw.

"You didn't even use a condom? Oh my God, Nik, you might be right. _Are_ you stupid?"

"I was drunk, all right? You fucked me up and I went out and had a few drinks over it. I thought it would be okay if E drove me home, and it wasn't. And I thought it would be okay if I—" but she can't finish her sentence. What is she going to say, that she had "fun"? She wasn't drinking for fun. She was drinking from depression.

And she doesn't want to hurt Jonte's feelings by saying that sleeping with him wasn't fun—even though it wasn't. It wasn't bad, and he wasn't a bad lay. But Nik was too drunk to enjoy it even if she wasn't still depressed over Stuie.

Both of them are staring at her now. She can see from the way they are looking at her that neither one understands why she slept with E.

Too bad she doesn't have an explanation for them.

Sometimes, she wants to ask Ericsson just why he jumped into bed with her, when he knew about Stuie. Everyone knew about Nik and Stuie, at least around their own locker room.

But maybe she ran her mouth off about Stuie dumping her. Nik can't remember much from that night, it's such a stupid, hazy blur.

"Don't call her stupid," Jonte says, lashing out. "It was because of me, all right? I didn't have one and we were…"

_In Jonte's car_ , Nik fills in for him. They didn't wind up in bed together until later, after he brought her home and got in next to her to stay with her till she fell asleep. It had been a sweet gesture; made her feel a little like a kid, but he meant it so nicely and she had been so miserable.

Stuie looks like he's trying to shoot lasers at E, and Nik wishes she had the strength to get up and get between them.

"Besides," Jonte says, looking fiercely at Stuie, "if the baby is mine, then I want to take care of it. And Nik, of course."

Nik is in the process of opening her mouth to say, _but I can take care of myself, thank you very much, knight in shining armour_ , when she hears heels clacking on the floor and Val steps into the room.

From the expression on her best friend's face, she heard what Jonte just said. And her eyes are shocked, her face pale.

"I thought I would make sure the baby was okay," she says, "but now I don't know if I can even look at you."

"Val, please—" Nik begs, reaching out her arms. "You know I didn't mean it. Don't—"

But Val is already turning away from the tableau in front of her.

"Stop," E says. He snags her arm and pulls her towards him. "What's your problem? And how come you knew about this, and we didn't?"

Val's eyes are sad now, when she trains them on Jonte.

"I was the one who figured it out," Val says. "But by all means, carry on."

Nik can tell Jonte doesn't understand. How can he be so dense? Val has been giving off signals for him to read for many, many months. Maybe years. And yet he's still gazing at her like she's nothing more than a friend he wants to appease on Nik's behalf.

"I don't know why you would do this," Val says, and even though she's watching E, she's clearly speaking to Nik. "You know that I—" but of course she stops, afraid to finish her thought. Because Jonte is standing right there, and Val is not going to tell him outright.

Maybe this whole thing—including the pregnancy—could have been avoided if Val had just been a little more forthright.

And then Nik feels awful, because how can she try to blame Val for something that she is responsible for? She could have said no to E. She definitely should not have foregone the condom.

Jonte has a frowny line between his eyebrows, like he's trying to figure something out. Stuie's been so quiet, Nik glances over to make sure he's still there.

He catches her looking. "Obviously you've been busy," he says, and it's really unlike Stuie to be so directly _mean_.

"Stuie, _please_ ," Nik says. She's losing all of them at once. Maybe Jonte would stay; maybe he would help her look after what is likely their baby.

But she can already tell Val is withdrawing, and Stuie's so angry he's gotten almost dead quiet, his tone flat and unyielding.

"You know what, Nik," Stuie says, still sounding flat and almost monotone, "you made this bed, you can lie in it."

"I already _told_ you, I was drunk—"

Val jumps in to say, "And that makes it okay? Seriously, Nikki, I thought better of you than this."

"Leave her alone, stop attacking her, both of you," Jonte spits. He stomps over to the bed and grabs Nik's hand. "If you two can't be civil, then we don't want you around anyway. I don't want—and I don't think Nik does, either—for our baby to be any more unsettled than she already is."

Nik chances a look at E's face, even though he's tilted his head and turned it slightly away from her. He's still got a lot of high colour on his cheeks, and Nik is thinking, _he's already decided it's his_ and _it's a girl_?

"E—" she says, but he's not listening.

"It was a drunken, stupid screw-up," he says, "for Nik at least. But _I_ knew what I was doing, and I'm never going to forgive myself for putting her in this position. If you two want someone to be angry with, you might as well be angry with me."

"E," Nik repeats, "I don't need to be defended. What I did was wrong."

"It's about time you realised that," Stuie says angrily. "I thought… No, you know what, I'm outta here."

And before she can call him back, before Ericsson can say anything else that is probably more damning than helpful, Stuie strides out of the room.

Leaving Jonte holding her hand, and Val throwing daggers at her with her eyes.

"So that's it, then," she says. "You know what, Nik, you lied to me."

"I didn't!" Of all the things that are upsetting Nik right now, this is one of the worst. "I just didn't tell you when you asked. I couldn't! Can't you see why I couldn't?"

"I think if you had said something back then, this wouldn't be so fucking painful," Val snarls. "You might have just been honest with me. I was your friend."

_Was_ , Nik thinks numbly. First her baby almost dies, then Stuie walks out on her—and after he'd been so solicitous, too—and now Val isn't her friend anymore.

Nik doesn't know when it happened, but silent tears are tracking down her cheeks, and she hates herself for crying. But maybe she can blame it on hormones.

"Don't say that," Nik whispers. "I didn't do it to hurt you."

This is when Jonte finally glances back at Nik. His eyes go soft and a little unfocused when he realises she's crying, and all of a sudden it hits Nik like a hammer to the thumb: _Jonte is in love with her_.

"I don't know why everyone is so angry," he says, still gazing tenderly at Nik. "Unless it's because she almost got the baby k-kill…" but he can't say it.

And Val gives them both a stony, pissed-off look and clomps out after Stuie, her heels sounding like anvils in Nik's ears.

"Jonte," Nik tries, but he places her hand gently back on the blanket.

"Nikki," he says, " _you know I would do anything for you. And I don't mind standing at your side and helping you out. But I'm upset too. What you did was very dangerous, and it almost cost us our child. You need to understand… I'll come if you need something, but now I need to be alone. I'm tired and confused and sad. Now that I'm sure you'll be all right—that the baby is all right—I'm going home. I'm sorry._ "

He pats her bicep awkwardly, as if now that he's in love with her, and apparently realised it, he's unsure how to act. Like having sex with her meant nothing at the time… but now it's all he can think about.

He leaves too, and Nik dashes the tears away from her eyes.

Let them all walk out of her life. She can—and she will—do this on her own.

She doesn't need any one of them, fucking dammit.

But she does put a hand on her belly and stroke it softly, whispering in Swedish,

"I'm sorry, baby. I know I screwed up. I'll make it okay. I'll take the best care of you from now on."

At some point she's going to have to address things with Jonte: that this baby he is so resolutely claiming as his own—that he has every right to _believe_ is his own—might be Stuie's.

Jesus fuck, she's going to lose E too. She's going to lose all of them.

And then the machines start beeping, and Nik looks up at them in alarm.

She tries to reach for the call button, but her vision tunnels, her ears start ringing, and everything slips into darkness.

—

"We did all we could," someone is saying as Nik starts dreaming. She's hearing things, her subconscious providing a funny swirl of colours and pictures and sounds, and she can't help but think, _when did I fall asleep? I was wide awake before._

And then her eyes pop open and she remembers it: the machines stabbing in her ears, the slow sink and slide into unconsciousness, and now, when she blinks away the crust and things flicker into focus, her doctor speaking to… Stuie. Oh God.

"But—"

"You didn't let me finish, Mr. Stuart," Dr. Ashlee scolds gently. "We did all we could, but Nik's health—and the health of her unborn baby—is precarious. I thought we would be able to send her home in a few days, but it would be appear she's at least five months along, according to the ultrasounds we did, and she needs to spend the next chunk of her pregnancy in the hospital or with confined bed rest."

"But, what happened?" Stuie is gaping at the doctor now, clearly confused and worried.

"The hit she took, it appears to have cracked a rib and punctured her lung. We can heal that, but it puts a lot of added stress on her baby, and thus, her own system. This is a very serious matter. You must impress upon her that—"

"But I'm not the father," he says in a panicky tone. "I can't tell her to do anything."

"We will tell her what—"

"I'm here," Nik says, breaking into their conversation. Stuie's look of relief that she has regained consciousness would be comical if not for the fact that he's obviously so worried, and she's in such a dire situation. "I'm awake."

"Ms. Kronwall," Dr. Ashlee says, "I'm terribly sorry we didn't diagnose the rib and puncture sooner. And while I think we have a good chance of taking care of that and helping you bring your baby to term, you must be absolutely as careful as possible."

"I-I can do that," Nik says. "I'll just. Yeah. I just want my baby to be all right."

And then some of the doctor's words to Stuie sink in: _she's at least five months along_.

Five months… that is more time than she expected. And it means there's no way Jonte can be the father, because she hadn't slept with him before that night, and she knows—she can pinpoint the game, the night on her calendar in her mind—that she fucked Jonte only four months ago.

Stuie's the father. Oh, oh shit. He's never going to deal with this. _She_ can't deal with this.

And never mind E, who is going to be so disappointed; so obviously in love with her baby already. And with her.

Not only that, but she lost Val's friendship over something that maybe she never would have had to tell her—maybe her one-night stand wouldn't have come to light if not for the pregnancy, and then maybe she never would have had to shatter Val's dreams.

But… "How is this possible?" Nik asks, knowing her eyes are wide and incredulous. "I didn't have unprotected sex five months ago. And I'm almost certain I had a regular period that month."

"You could have conceived simply through a small tear in the condom," Dr. Ashlee says. "As for the period, a lot of women experience bleeding even around the time of conception. It's not always so cut and dried as to when a woman conceives if she thinks the bleeding is from her menstrual cycle. But the ultrasounds are pretty conclusive."

Nik can see the exact moment when Stuie makes the connection too.

And it hurts worse than anything, than the hit, than the subsequent bleeding and pain and everything that came after the hit, because she can tell he rejects it. Rejects the idea of them having a baby, and _her_.

He'd already let her go once, and now she's trapped him into a lifetime relationship with her—however that plays out—by getting knocked up with his baby.

It would have been better if both she and the baby died. It wouldn't fuck up Stuie's neat, ordered life that way.

Nik starts to cry again and wants to slash her wrists for being so weak, so spineless.

Goddamn hormones. She'd never cry this much if not for this pregnancy. She hates being pregnant almost as much as she wants her baby to be born healthy.

When Jonte walks in holding a bouquet of flowers, Nik wants to poke her own eyes out. Of course he would do something sweet like that. The fact that it's not his baby… God, what it could do to him, she doesn't even want to think about, never mind find out.

Will he still love her, Nik wonders, if it's not his baby? And does she want him to, anyway? It complicates everything if he does.

And yet Nik feels so alone. She doesn't _want_ to be in this predicament alone. She'd like for someone else to be there, even if she doesn't _need_ her hand held—it would be nice if sometimes someone would do it.

And as if on cue, Jonte sets the vase down on the bedside table and picks up her limp fingers.

"I came as soon as I heard," he says, gazing down at her with a sappy look on his face. Nik wishes he wouldn't look at her like that. She definitely didn't earn it, and the way she's behaved—putting her baby at risk—makes her feel like he should be angrier at her. Like Stuie is. Or Val. God, thoughts of Val send painful spikes through her stomach.

Or maybe that's something else. "I'm having pain," Nik says worriedly. The doctor, who had still been conversing with Stuie, immediately comes over to her bedside.

"What kind of pain?" she asks, sweeping the sheet back to expose Nik's hospital-gown-covered belly.

She throws over her shoulder, "You'll both have to leave while I examine her."

It's clear from the way that Jonte holds onto her hand a few seconds longer that he doesn't want to go, but the doctor gives him a meaningful stare, and he lets go.

"I'll be back," he promises, as he and Stuie exit the room. Nik wonders if they will go back to the waiting room together and argue over her. She really never thought she'd see the day when she had two guys—and both of them teammates, no less—who were fighting over her.

"It's right here," Nik says, gesturing to her stomach. "It's a sharp pain."

"Don't move," Dr. Ashlee says. "I'm going to call for the ultrasound machine. We'll take a look, just make sure everything is all right."

She reaches over Nik's head for a telephone mounted on the wall, and after some quick instructions, returns her attention to Nik's belly. She lifts up the gown, keeping the blanket covering Nik's lower half for privacy, and begins to press gently on her belly.

"Tell me if there is any pain," she says, moving her hands slowly and deliberately.

But now the pain is easing away, and Nik shakes her head. "I guess it's gone now."

"We'll still look at it," Dr. Ashlee says. "Better to take a peek and see everything is fine than to let it go unchecked." As she covers Nik up again while they wait for the ultrasound machine, she says, "I know this is none of my business, but… those are your teammates, yes?"

"Yeah," Nik says. "I take it you recognised them?"

"Well, of course I'm a Wings fan," Dr. Ashlee says with a shy smile, "but that's not the point. I was just going to ask: are they bothering you? I mean, I get that you probably want their support, but they could be… distressing… I don't want you to have any more stress than is necessary. This pregnancy, from here on out, is going to be difficult enough already."

"No," Nik says dismissively, "they're not bothering me. They're just concerned."

"If it's what you want, of course I'm not going to tell you that you can't have visitors or anything, but I may add a note to your chart to restrict them to one visitor at a time. The tension in here was off the charts."

"I guess that's all right," Nik says dubiously. "I really don't mind having them here…"

"I am sure you don't, but I'm saying, you need to be careful now. You must think of this baby and how best you can take care of it."

"It's fine, whatever," Nik says. She's getting sleepy, her body crying out for more rest even though since she's been here, she's been asleep for most of the time. Something occurs to her. "I, um, how long have I been in the hospital?" she asks.

"A day and a half," the doctor replies. "You've been in and out of consciousness since you were admitted; I'm not surprised you've lost a little time."

"A _day and a half_?" she gasps. "I didn't think I was asleep that much!"

"Your body underwent a severe trauma," Dr. Ashlee says. "Ordinarily a hit in a hockey game, like this one, might lead to an injury, but generally the recipient isn't pregnant. That put a lot of extra stress on your body."

"I know," Nik says, feeling chastened. "It was a stupid thing to do, but I just didn't want to have to… tell everyone I was going to have a baby."

A nurse wheels in the ultrasound machine at that moment, and the doctor, using hand motions and verbal directions, explains where to set it up and then, to Nik,

"The gel might be cold. I'm sorry about that."

Now that Nik is staring down at her belly, as the doctor applies the gel liberally—Nik shivers—she can't believe how she could have missed how much her stomach has changed. She must not have looked properly in a mirror for at least a few weeks not to have noticed the way her stomach has rounded, the way her belly button protrudes.

She really does look pregnant. How in God's name did no one realise it? She's not fat or anything, and her belly was always round, but this is clearly different—and Nik wonders if Lidas could tell, when he felt her stomach as she ran into him. Did he know?

The ultrasound itself is painless, and she doesn't have any more pain in her abdomen, which she tells the doctor.

"Everything looks all right," Dr. Ashlee tells her as she cleans away the gel. "The pain could be from a number of factors. Push the call button if you have any more."

She and the nurse exit the room at the same time, leaving Nik alone again. Nik lifts her leg a little and wiggles her toes under the slightly scratchy hospital blanket.

Is she really going to have to lie in this bed for four more months?

She raises her other leg and wiggles those toes too. She's so absorbed in her thoughts—and her toes—that Lidas has to clear his throat before she notices him.

She drops her leg and yanks the blanket up to her chin. It's weird, and stupid, but outside of the locker room, being nearly naked around Lidas makes her uncomfortable. He's so perfect, and she's… not.

But all he does is smile gently at her, as if he hasn't noticed—or doesn't care—that she's lying in a hospital bed.

"How are you holding up?" he asks.

Nik peeks at from behind the blanket. "I'm okay," she says. "Did you know?"

"Not for certain, though I had my suspicions," Lidas says. "I wanted to talk to you about it, but I was hoping you would come to me first. That you would do the right thing."

Nik flushes. Of course, even a gentle rebuke from Lidas stings like a blocked shot. He's not chewing her out, but…

"I know, I'm sorry," she mumbles.

"I couldn't do anything if you didn't want to tell me," Lidas says. "Besides, I wasn't sure. It wasn't until two days ago that I really began to suspect."

So he did figure it out when she ran into him. Nik is somehow not surprised that he knew. His wife has had four kids, after all—he probably has a lot of experience with this sort of thing.

"I didn't think it would hurt," Nik says pathetically. "One last game. If I hadn't gotten hit… but of course that's my fault, for putting myself in a bad spot."

"You did what you should have done," Lidas tells her. "You checked to see where the pressure was coming from. You got blindsided; that's not your fault."

"Nick," she says, lowering the blanket a little. "Is the team very angry with me?"

"No," Lidas says. "Mostly just worried. We're all pulling for you, Kronner." He gets up from the chair and comes over, pats her knee. "I'll come by again later. You look peaked; you should try to sleep some more."

Nik wishes that everyone's solution for her wasn't just "sleep some more". Sleeping is going to get very boring if that's all she has to do here.

And then Lidas winks at her. "And don't worry. I'm going to see if we can get NHL 12 in here for you to play."

"You're the best," Nik says, grinning. Her cheek muscles feel all out of shape when it comes to smiling. Leave it to Lidas to make everything seem a little bit better. He really is The Perfect Human: he always knows just what to do, and to say.

He got his scold in, but he followed it up by reminding her that she's valuable to everyone—and it's something Nik really, really needed to hear right now.

Too bad Stuie's still furious with her.

"Nick," she says, just before Lidas leaves the room, "is Stuie still here?"

Lidas nods. "He's in the waiting room with Jonte. They looked like they were having a pretty serious discussion."

_Jesus_ , Nik thinks, _I hope Stuie's not telling Jonte the baby's not his._

"Can you send him back in?" she asks, and Lidas smiles and nods again.

"No problem," he says. But just before he leaves, he asks Nik, "When did you sleep with Jonte?"

She's about to answer him, that it was just four months ago, when Lidas adds, "I think you need to do the math again in your head."

Nik doesn't know how Lidas knows so much about this situation—though why not? He's the captain, he has a pretty good pulse on his team—and as he smoothly walks out of the room, Nik feverishly counts back.

She wonders just what Lidas is trying to tell her; he must have spoken to the doctors or something, because he probably wouldn't mention this to her if he didn't think it was relevant. Nik puts a hand on the swell of her belly, feeling it, the way it's like a hard rubber ball now.

And then Dr. Ashlee comes hurrying in. "Ms. Kronwall," she says, "I'm afraid I have some very sad news."

Nik looks up from her belly, suddenly worried about her teammates. Have they killed each other?

"Your ultrasound results this second time were very revealing," the doctor says. She looks very grave, speaking slowly and quietly, as if to reassure Nik.

This, however, is not reassuring to Nik at all.

"We did not originally detect this, because of the lack of a heartbeat, but careful examination of your ultrasound pictures suggest you were carrying twins."

Nik is not stupid. She can feel something go through her, a lightning strike of feeling that she can't identify yet. She thinks it might be shock.

"What are you saying?" she asks, though, forcing herself to listen through ears that are ringing. Her fingers and her toes have gone numb and cold.

"I believe that the vaginal bleeding you experienced, along with the cramping and the impact of the hit you took, suggest one of your twins has spontaneously aborted in utero."

This time, when Nik cries, she lets it happen. She's crying profusely without hardly noticing beyond a faint rebuke from her stronger side, the part of her that thinks she should be able to deal with anything, but this… this is not what she was expecting. She doesn't think she can deal with this.

"I still don't understand," Nik whimpers, pressing her fingers against her eyelids. She pushes hard, until spots appear and black lines squiggle across her vision.

"We didn't recognise it at first because it was partially hidden behind the viable baby, whose heart is still beating. The living baby seems healthy for the moment, the heartbeat strong, but…"

"But what happens now?" Nik can barely breathe, much less ask questions she knows she needs answered. She clutches at her belly, suddenly very aware that, within her body, she is carrying one living baby—and one dead one.

"Well, I'm very sorry, but because of the nature of your injuries, and the high risk towards the living child, you will most likely have to carry both of them to term, or at least until you go into labour naturally. Or in a case of pre-term labour, we will monitor you to make sure the baby is healthy enough and developed enough to survive."

Nik is definitely in shock now. She stares at the doctor, but she's not really seeing her anymore.

There is pain in her chest, and she can't tell if it's from the punctured lung or the squeezing of her heart because she… Nik realises that she's responsible for this, that she thought she had narrowly escaped a tragedy, but in reality what she did was even worse: she doomed her surviving baby to a life of knowing she (or he) had a twin that didn't make it.

Nik wishes she had a glass of poisoned Kool-Aid.

"I can't believe this is happening," Nik says sluggishly. She can feel her brain slowing, her mind grinding to a halt.

"I'm going to have one of our grief counselors come in to speak to you," Dr. Ashlee says. She turns away, and then the door opens slowly. Jonte peeks his head in.

"You asked for me?" he directs at the doctor, who gives him a wave.

"Stay with her for awhile," she says. "She could use some support right now."

Nik barely notices her doctor leaving the room. She's barely even aware of Jonte, who pulls the chair up towards the bed with a shriek against the tiles, then plops his lanky frame onto it.

" _Nikki, what happened_?" he asks. " _The doctor, she said you were carrying twins…_?"

" _I_ was," Nik manages to eke out through her choked throat. She shifts on the bed a little and holds her arms out. "Jonte," she sobs, " _I killed one of them_."

He immediately slips into her embrace, holding her without really pressing too tightly against her, aware of her fragile, injured body. Still, though, his face is near hers and she can feel her tears smear against his cheek.

Worse than that, though, is how badly she misses Stuie right now.

Her heart breaks even more, though, when she realises that some of the tears on her face aren't hers. That Jonte is crying openly, unashamedly too.

And she remembers: _he still thinks the babies are his. That the one she aborted was his._

"Jonte," she says, feeling like he has to know; how can she let him grieve a child that wasn't his? " _It wasn't your baby. I'm almost 20 weeks along. We—_ " but he cuts her off.

" _Nikki, count back. Was that time with me so regrettable that you don't remember_?"

Again, Nik thinks, her mind fuzzy. " _I can't, Jonte. I can't think._ "

" _It was almost that long ago. And the doctor can't be a hundred percent certain when you conceived. I'd… I'd like it if you did a paternity test._ "

He pats her shoulder awkwardly and straightens up. His face looks really pretty with the flush from crying on it, the way his perfectly-shaped lips are slightly bruised red from it too.

Nik can't seem to process anything normally anymore. She's hurting so bad, and she is staring at Jonte's face and how could she be finding him so attractive right now?

Then his words really sink in and Nik plasters her hands to her face.

This is probably why she doesn't realise anyone else is in the room until a familiar voice says,

"Nikki? What can we do?" Stuie. He sounds absolutely wrecked, as if the guilt from his earlier anger—now that something tragic has happened—is eating him up.

She uncovers her face. Stuie's pale, even his lips are pale.

"There's…" she stops and swings her glance from one to the other. "...nothing," she finishes. "Just nothing."

"I wish we could take you out of here," Stuie says fiercely. "I want to cuddle you up in blankets and give you hot milk. And oatmeal."

Jonte pokes Stuie in the chest. "Maybe _I_ want to be the one to make her feel better," he argues.

Nik can't believe it. "Fuck you both," she flares. "I'm lying here, pregnant with twins, and one of them is _dead inside me_ and you are fighting over me? What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?"

The anger feels good, cleansing even, though Nik knows that the anger isn't really at them, but at herself.

They both gape at her, apparently having forgotten she's _right here_.

"Nik—" Stuie begins, but Jonte raises his voice to speak over him.

"We just want to help," he says loudly. Stuie jostles him in the shoulder.

"Well, _you're_ not helping," Stuie bites off.

"How the fuck would you know?" Jonte spits back. He pushes Stuie, hard enough to send him reeling a little before he rights himself.

Nik can't believe it. She's astonished.

"Hello? I'm still right here?"

Jonte steps in front of Stuie deliberately and grabs for Nik's hand. She yanks it away from him.

"Keep your hands off me," she says, and when Stuie moves forward like he's going to muscle Jonte out of the way, she flips back the blanket and hides her hands beneath it. "Both of you. Jesus fuck." And she starts crying again, stupidly, and then both of them, apparently awestruck, go quiet and stare at her.

"Nikki, I'm sorry," Stuie mumbles, and Nik nods her head, snuffling as her sinuses clog up from the repeated tears.

"We will take care of you," Jonte says earnestly. Nik waves him off, forgetting her hand's under the blanket. It would probably strike her as funny if she didn't know she has to lie in this bed for months—or _a_ bed, anyway—and carry two babies to term, even though it's already too late for one of them.

"I need…" but she can't even voice it. She doesn't know. How gruesome, to know her baby is dead inside her. How awful, to bear this heaviness in her heart, knowing that as much as she loves her babies, it's already too late, even though she barely knew she was pregnant with twins.

Thankfully, Lidas comes back in the room, and Nik lights up to see him, only to feel her face crumple back into tears when she sees who is peeking out from behind him.

"Nikki," Val says, and then she's hurtling into the room, throwing herself onto her knees next to the bed. "I'm so fucking sorry! I can't believe I was such an ass about everything. I didn't know what had happened."

Nik wipes her eyes on the blanket. "Does everyone know?" she asks in a small voice.

Lidas, with one look, sends both Stuie and Jonte scuttling to opposite corners of the room. It's like he knows that they've done nothing but argue about her since they came to see her again.

This many visitors in her hospital room is making everything cramped. She's in a double room, though she knows they won't put anyone in the other bed as long as she's here. So Stuie sits awkwardly on the edge of the other bed even as Jonte claims the chair again.

Lidas's face is drawn, sad. "We will all help you get through this," he says, before directing a scowl at both Stuie and E. "And those two will figure out how to reconcile their differences so that they can see what _you_ need, and not what they _want_."

Jonte and Stuie both suddenly begin studying their feet, and Nik would laugh if she didn't have an unbearable ache in her chest.

She's still not even sure what she's feeling. She thinks she's still crying, but surrounded by all these people, she feels overwhelmed.

"Val," she says, forcing the words out of her dry mouth, her sticky lips, "I don't blame you for being angry. You don't have to be nice to me now because… because…" but she can't say it.

"That's not it at all, Nikki," Val says, rubbing Nik's hand. "I was wrong. Of course I was wrong, anyway. We're friends. You're my best friend. I should not have judged you."

"You weren't wrong," Nik says, sniffling hard. "I fucked your crush and…" Silence descends on the room. Even Lidas glances away.

Nik isn't at first sure what she's done. She's sort of lost in her own thoughts, but then she meets Val's panicked eyes.

"I mean," she stutters, struggling for a cohesive lie, "that guy in the club that night. The one that might be the father."

Lidas sighs. Nik can hear every last iota of disappointment in her in that sigh. He knows; of course he does.

Lidas knows she fucked Jonte—he already made that clear—and since everyone knew about Stuie, obviously he did too. But apparently he knew about Val's crush, and Nik just blurted it out to everyone like an insensitive cunt. And he must also be able to tell she's lying. It's unfair for anyone to be a human lie detector too, but of course Lidas of all people would be.

"I-I'm sorry," she stumbles over her words. But Val recovers quickly.

"It's all right, Nik, let's just think about you for right now."

"I think we need to give Nik some time to grieve," Lidas says gently. Everyone in the room scuffs their feet—if not literally, then figuratively. "I know she's grateful to all of you for the show of support, but this is going to be a very difficult time and she needs to know we're not going to add to her troubles."

Sweet Lidas, always knowing just what to say. Nik keeps her eyes on the window, but she can see the reflection of Stuie, Jonte, and Val as they file out of the room. Only Lidas remains.

He strides over to the bed and strokes a hand through her short, dirty blonde hair. It's probably dirty literally by now, since she hasn't had a shower since before the game where she was hit.

" _The team is going to do everything we can for you_ ," he tells her. " _The best counseling, the best medical care. And of course, I'm here for you, Nik. If those two knuckleheads get to be too much for you, all you have to do is say something._ "

" _I have to stay in bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy, and I have to hold this baby under my heat all that time, even though it didn't survive. Nick, I killed my baby. This is my fault._ "

" _Go easy on yourself, Nik. What's happened has happened. You can't make things worse by blaming yourself._ "

Nik directs her tear-filled eyes to Lidas's face. " _But it is my fault. I never should have played in that game. You know that. You already told me…_ "

" _Nik. Just get well._ " Lidas touches her forehead. Then he smiles at her, a little sadly, but plain encouragement. " _And don't worry about that slip-up. Jonte will never figure it out on his own._ "

" _But Stuie might,_ ," Nik says. " _He might think she's crushing on_ him."

Lidas gives her another bittersweet smile, one that says, _you're worrying about all the wrong things right now_ , and he smoothes her hair back on her forehead.

" _Sleep, Kronner. It's one of the best things for the human body. And it will help. Grief passes with time._ "

Nik closes her eyes and she can feel Lidas walk out of the room, leaving her to her troubled thoughts.

How will she get through this? And then she remembers Jonte asking for a paternity test.

It's something she is going to have to do. To find out for certain who the babies' father is. Because he deserves to know, and Nik has done enough lying.

She's so sick at heart, she can't sleep.

She just lies in the bed, one hand softly moving back and forth over her stomach, and imagines she's caressing her babies—both of them, still alive.

It might cripple her permanently to give birth to the one she already lost.

So young, to be deprived of life.

And it's Nik's fault. She will never forgive herself for that, no matter what Lidas says.

—

Nik knows, when she finds out who the father is—who the fathers _are_ , however weird that may seem—that she has to be the one to break the news. It wouldn't be fair to ask the hospital to do it, though she thinks that the doctor probably would, if she wanted her to. After all, the father is just as much a part of this as she is. The doctor can probably share this information with him, even if Nik hadn't already given her permission for them to discuss things with both Stuie _and_ Jonte—both of whom are still at odds with each other since this happened.

But Nik can't help but cradle her belly and try to imagine what it might be like to be told, _"hey, you were going to be a daddy, but I killed your baby. I'm sorry. No, really._ Maybe it's something like being told, _you're pregnant with twins, but one of them has died inside your body._

Because Nik found out this morning that it is, in fact, possible to be pregnant with twins by two different fathers. Extremely rare. The sort of thing that would fuel headlines forever: **NHL Star Nikole Kronwall Pregnant with Twins by Different Fathers!** But nevertheless possible.

One of the babies is Stuie's. One of them is Jonte's. And in a matter of hours—maybe less, now—she's going to have to tell the two of them.

She doesn't think they are going to believe her, which is why she has the results of the paternity testing in her night table drawer.

It's lonely and boring in the hospital. Every once in awhile someone from the team comes in to visit, and often they play games of NHL 12. Helmer is one of the best at the game, although Abby's good at it too. Those two often come visit her together, and it helps, because they don't look at her strangely. They are young enough that this apparently doesn't seem weird to them, though they get occasionally awkward if they think about the fact that her baby died.

Sometimes Val comes, though she doesn't stay long. It's as if she's uncomfortable with the idea of being around Nik now, not so much because Nik fucked Jonte—she doesn't think—but because of the grief Nik knows is etched in lines on her face.

She's seen herself in the mirror. She looks like a heroin addict. There are fine lines creasing against her eyes and bracketing her mouth now. Lines of sadness that weren't there before this. Nik hates them, but not so much because of her own vanity, but because of what they represent.

Nik watches a lot of TV, though she carefully avoids hockey games. She's not certain that, when this is over and she's given birth, she's going to play hockey again.

Playing hockey killed her baby, and Nik knows she's being irrational—not getting back on the horse and all that—but she can't help herself. She also knows what everyone would say, but… even if she gets through this, even if her remaining baby is born healthy, she might just retire from the NHL to take care of it.

Nik is flipping through the channels idly, wishing she had some new books to read, when Lidas stops by to visit.

Lidas is one of the few people who comes almost every day, or at the very least, every time he has a free moment from the team, and Nik is so grateful, she wants to kiss him sometimes.

" _Hey, Kronner,_ " Lidas says, coming into her room. He sets a few books in Swedish on the night table and Nik smiles at him as best she can; it's always nice to read in her native language, and of course Lidas would know what that's like. He sprawls on the chair by her bed. " _Has it been quiet today?_ "

" _No visitors today. Well, besides you._ " Nik laughs a little, but they both know how forced it is. " _I saw the doctor this morning. She gave me the results of the paternity testing. You won't believe this._ "

" _Try me_ ," Lidas says, arching an eyebrow. Even his eyebrows are perfect. Nik thinks they're natural, too, unlike hers, which are teased and tortured and shaped into submission. Or at least, they used to be, before she landed in the hospital and gave up caring about stupid, trivial little things like that.

" _The babies… Stuie's the dad. Of one of them. And Jonte is the dad of the other._ "

This causes Lidas's other eyebrow to raise. " _I can honestly say I didn't see that coming_ ," Lidas says.

" _Yes, well, me neither _," Nik replies wryly. " _But, Nick, how am I going to tell them_?"__

__Lidas immediately comprehends what she's getting at, just like she knew he would. He settles his chin on his hand and regards her._ _

__" _I wish I had an answer for you, Kronner _," Lidas says. " _You are just going to have to be as plain as possible. I don't think you can sugarcoat something like this._ "___ _

____Nik grabs one of her extra pillows and hugs it to her chest. Her belly pushes it up closer to her face than would happen otherwise, and if Lidas thinks she's hiding, then he would be right. But it's also a comfort to have something to hold. It's been a long time since anyone has put their arms around her. Jonte was probably the last one to do it, and that was probably back when he and Stuie had their pissing contest in her hospital room, when Jonte was certain the baby was his. When they thought she was only pregnant with one baby._ _ _ _

____" _This is terrible, Nick. Stuie… how is he going to deal with this? What about his wife? I've really fucked up._ "_ _ _ _

____" _Kronner, who is the father of the baby that you lost _?" Lidas asks gently.___ _ _ _

______" _You mean the one that I killed_?" Nik buries her face in the pillow so Lidas won't see the fresh wash of tears on her face._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _It's not like it was murder, Kronner. It was an accident. Accidents happen._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _It was_ not _an accident, Lidas. I knew I was pregnant and I took a stupid risk. And I paid… the price of one last game? It was too high._ " She emerges from the pillow, knowing tears are shining on her face. _"Lidas, I'm not coming back when this is over. I'm going to retire and fade into obscurity. My hockey playing days are done._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _What_?" He looks genuinely shocked, and she also apparently successfully diverted him from the question of who the father of her deceased baby is. " _You can't do that, Kronner. I mean, I shouldn't say that; of course you should do what you feel is necessary, but… but you're such an asset to the team, a great defenceman. We need you._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _You don't need me, the team has you, Lidas. The best defenceman in the world. Besides, I…_ " She pleads with him with her eyes, and Lidas sighs._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _I'm not going to be around forever. I'm getting old. But you're just in your prime, Nik. This… this is a terrible thing that's happened, and I'm not trying to trivialise it, but it doesn't have to end everything good in your life._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _I already did that on my own. Lidas, I think I'd like to be alone now. I just… it's hard to be around people too much, to know that my friends are happy outside of this hospital room and I'm just bringing everybody down._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _You needn't think of things like that. We're glad to be here. But of course. I'll go if that's what you want._ " Lidas gets up and comes to the bed, leans over. He touches her hair, and Nik shivers. He's incredible, to know just what she needs every time she needs it._ _ _ _ _ _

______She imagines Annika is very lucky._ _ _ _ _ _

______Lidas leaves her with the memory of his touch on her forehead, and Nik is about to try to sleep some more—she does it a lot now, in the way that would probably lead her doctors to think she's depressed—when Jonte shows up, carrying flowers._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _Nikki! I've missed you_ ," Jonte says, putting down the flowers and immediately kissing her fingers. It's not the same as a hug, and Nik wonders if her friends—and her former lovers—are too afraid to really touch her anymore. Is it because of what she did? Because of the taint of having murdered her baby?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Or maybe it's worse than that: that they don't want to be near her because of the dead baby in her belly. She's often torn between being horrified by it, and at the same time knowing she'll never be ready to give birth because it will mean losing her baby forever. At least right now she can still cuddle her belly and think that she's cuddling her babies. Both of them._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _Jonte, you were just here yesterday_ ," Nik says tiredly. " _You might want to sit down. I got the results of the paternity tests today._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte's expression tells her that he doesn't know whether to be happy or sad. That's about how Nik feels all the time now, except that every time she considers being happy, she remembers what she did, and how she never deserves to be happy again._ _ _ _ _ _

______But he sits down in the chair, pulling it towards the bed._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _All right, lay it on me_ ," Jonte says._ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik fills her lungs with air. She doesn't know how she's going to do this… but she has to._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _Well, I was having twins, you know that. And one of the babies is a boy. Stuie's the father—_ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte's face falls. Nik hates herself, because she has worse news to impart._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _"Jonte, I know you probably won't believe this, but… but the babies had different fathers. The other baby was a girl. The baby who… who… I lost. She's the one I lost. Jonte, you're the father._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte's happy expression freezes on his face. Nik can see him trying to process what she's telling him, can see him work it out: that he was the father of a baby girl. But that Nik killed his baby._ _ _ _ _ _

______The smile slides off his face, replaced by shock, then horror, and then the tears start to fall, and Nik doesn't think he's even aware of them._ _ _ _ _ _

______He covers his face with his hands and his shoulders start to shake, and his sobs fill the room._ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik can't help it, she starts crying again too. She's the worst. She never meant to hurt E, to fuck him and wind up putting him in this position he's in now, the father of a stillborn baby girl. Had she let Val have him, this never would have happened._ _ _ _ _ _

______She thinks about sweeping the flowers off the table because she feels so guilty, because she will never, ever, as long as she lives, deserve flowers or gifts or happiness._ _ _ _ _ _

______" _Jonte_ ," she says brokenly, listening to him sob, " _I'm not keeping this other baby. I don't know if Stuie's going to want him, because of the horrible mess it would make, but I can't keep him. I can't be a mother to this baby knowing what I did to his sister._ "_ _ _ _ _ _

______Which is of course when she looks up and catches Stuie out of the corner of her eye._ _ _ _ _ _

______"What's going on?" Stuie asks, taking in the sight, looking back and forth between Nik and Jonte. "Why are you crying?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Stuie," Nik says on a gasp, "The baby… it was a girl. And E was the father."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Stuie's animosity towards Jonte since this whole thing started is immediately gone. It's visible on his face, in the sudden shift in his demeanor. He crosses the room to Jonte and puts his arms around him, and Jonte, whether he knows who's there or not, buries his face in Stuie's shoulder and continues to cry like he's lost and doesn't know how he will ever find himself again._ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik did this. She ought to just kill herself the moment the babies are born, and let life take its course without her._ _ _ _ _ _

______"And you're the father of a boy," Nik finishes. Stuie's shoulders stiffen, but he doesn't stop holding Jonte._ _ _ _ _ _

______"How is that possible?" he asks, glancing up over E's shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______"It's… well, put simply, a woman can sometimes ovulate two eggs in one cycle, and if she has sex with two different men in a short period of time, it's possible for them to be fertilised by the sperm of the two different men."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Are you serious?" Stuie obviously is having a hard time believing this. Nik is waiting for the moment when he realises what she said: that he is having a baby with her._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Stuie," Nik says, "I'm not willing to keep this baby. If you want to claim it, he's yours. I don't know how you'd explain that to your wife, but I won't take your baby away from you. If you don't want him… don't want the clusterfuck, then I'm going to give him up for adoption."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"You can't do that," Stuie says. "You've always wanted a baby. I know you have."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"I don't deserve to have a baby," Nik says bluntly. "I've already proven I'd be a horrible mother."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Losing a baby before it's born is not indicative of what type of mother you would be." Stuie pats Jonte and then gets up. He leans against the bed. "Melissa miscarried too; not mine. With her first husband. But she's a great mother."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Of course he would compare this to his perfect wife. Nik could never compare to her, which is why he went back to his wife in the first place. But now Nik has effectively trapped him for life, unless he allows her to give the baby up._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm not going to be a great mother," Nik says. "I'm not going to be any mother."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte, not participating in the conversation, is providing a background of heartbroken tears and Nik thinks maybe he's hurting more over this than she is._ _ _ _ _ _

______"We'll figure something out," Stuie says. "I'm not… Nik, I'm not going to take the baby and raise it. But I won't sign over my rights either, so that you can give it up for adoption. I'm sorry."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Fine," Nik says, suddenly angry. How dare he make her keep the reminder of what she's done? How dare he put her in a position where all she wants is her living baby but she knows she doesn't deserve him? "I'll just raise the baby with Jonte," she spits, trying to hurt Stuie._ _ _ _ _ _

______More proof that she's a terrible person._ _ _ _ _ _

______Stuie blanches, and Nik is sorry at once. Of course he wants his baby. He probably loves the baby more than life itself already, and he only just found out he's the father._ _ _ _ _ _

______Even worse is knowing that there's actually no guarantee her living baby will make it either, that it will be born alive._ _ _ _ _ _

______But Jonte's face comes up, beautiful and tear-streaked and haunted, and he says, with more hope than he has any right to,_ _ _ _ _ _

______"You would?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik's heart aches. She wants to give Jonte his daughter, to be able to present him with the baby he fathered and know that she'll cry when she's born._ _ _ _ _ _

______"She can't do that, sorry, E," says Stuie, giving Nik the stink-eye. "I'm going to be a part of my baby's life. Even if…"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Even if it costs you your wife?" Nik asks acidly. "Your perfect family? You'd already tossed me away for them," Nik finishes. She watches Stuie's face crumple and feels a strange, brutal sort of satisfaction._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You know what, Nik, you can try to push people away, to give up your baby, to self-destruct… but I'm not going to allow it. I love you."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik's eyes fly open wide. This confession is unexpected—and unwanted. It's too late for him to say this now. She's already tried to flush him out of her system. She moved on, and so did he._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte stands up. "I love her too," he says to Stuie, sounding defeated. "I don't see why she always picks you."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm not going to do that this time," Nik says, with as much conviction as she can muster. She's not really a hundred percent certain that Stuie wouldn't be able to suck her back in, but she's going to try hard not to let that happen. "I'm not going to be with you either, though, Jonte."_ _ _ _ _ _

______This is possibly an unforgivable blow, after she delivered the news that his baby had died._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jonte shrugs. "It doesn't matter," he says. His hair is lank at his temples, sweaty and hanging in his eyes. "Nothing matters anymore," he says, and turns his back, walks out of the room._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Go after him, Stuie," Nik says. "Make sure he doesn't do something stupid."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Stuie gives her an incredulous look. "You think he wants to be around _me_ right now?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Well, I can't do it," Nik says. "Go. Go on, Stuie."_ _ _ _ _ _

______She's somewhat disappointed and sad when he leaves too, even though she told him to do it._ _ _ _ _ _

______Nik closes her eyes. Maybe a little more sleep. Maybe when she opens them again, this will all have been a bad dream._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
